Under the Bed
by Aiselne Phoenix Nocturnus
Summary: There is something underneath Sammy's bed, and it surprises even Dean. Wee!chesters/Pre-Series. One-Shot.


_**Under the Bed**_

**SUMMARY**: There is something underneath Sammy's bed, and it surprises even Dean.

**GENRE**: General/Family  
><strong>RATED<strong>: PG / K+  
><strong>NOTABLE CONTENT<strong>: Mild/Crude Language & Brief Alcohol/Suggestive References

**COPYRIGHT NOTE**: I don't own _Supernatural  
><em>**STORY TAKES PLACE IN**: Pre-series (wee!chesters)

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><p><strong>Under the Bed<strong>

_Aiselne P.N._

One can learn a lot about a man just by looking under his bed.

Dean expected the day would come eventually. Once Sammy grew up, the little brother was bound to have more exciting things under his bed than candy wrappers and plastic toy soldiers.

Though still young himself, the older Winchester boy already had a crash-course in what grown-ups hid under their beds. The underside of John's bed was a pigsty. Crumpled maps and papers failed to conceal countless empty bottles. Some bottles Dean recognized as cheap booze; other smaller bottles were rimmed with a type of weird jelly that Dean was too young to identify. Not the type to question is father, Dean just followed John's orders: "Clean up this dump before I get back."

Sweeping up a crappy motel room was not the highlight of any child's day. But the TV only had three stations (two in Spanish), it was raining outside, and Dean had already read the comic books Sammy was currently hogging. It was not as though Dean had anything better to do this afternoon. Besides, after three nights in that motel, Dean could no longer tolerate the alcoholic stench permeating from John's side of the room.

After dumping the remains of his father's junk into a plastic trash bag, Dean proceeded to his brother's bed. Sam had already swept around the kitchenette and bathroom, so his half of the work was complete. He offered to help his big brother, but Dean stubbornly refused and told the kid to relax. Even as Dean neared where Sammy sat reading on his bed, the little brother bore a face that Dean read, "Need some help?" The eldest just smirked a silent, "Nah," stubbornly shook his head, and then knelt down to get to work.

Once under Sam's bed, that was when Dean saw _it_.

"–The hell?"

Sam's eyes rose from his musty comic book. Oddly, he could have sworn he heard Dean snicker. Frankly, Sam himself felt like giggling at his big brother's butt unglamorously sticking out from underneath the bed frame. Sighing, Sammy dared to ask, "What is it, Dean?"

Dean's discovery was too priceless to pass up. Pulling out from under the bed, the lint-covered boy grinned devilishly at his unsuspecting baby brother. Poor Sammy did not even have a chance to brace himself before Dean shoved the mystery item into the child's shocked face.

Though worn and discolored, there was no denying that _it_ was a teddy bear – big button eyes, fuzzy faux fur, and a face that was much too cute for the Winchesters' gritty lifestyle. "Normal" five-year-olds slept with stuffed animals. However, Winchesters were expected to grow up faster, and Dean had to admit that he was surprised that Sam still had something like this. And though a part of Dean relished any opportunity for Sam to live some semblance of normalcy, the boyish big brother still could not resist the embarrassed color on Sammy's cheeks.

"Dude, what're you? Two years old?" teased Dean, chucking the bear onto Sam's bed. The older brother nearly rolled onto the floor in hysterics when he heard the teddy _squeak_ upon hitting the mattress. No longer did Dean bother to contain his laughter. "What else ya got under there, Sammy? A binkie?"

Sam's eye roll was barely noticeable amidst his beet-red face. "It's not like it's a doll or anything." Grabbing the animal's arms, Sam placed the bear on his lap, poorly attempting to act like a nonchalant young man whilst defending a teddy bear. "Besides, you and Dad were the ones who gave it to me for Christmas."

"Yeah…like three years ago," Dean clarified.

He remembered that specific December 23rd. John stuck a five-dollar bill into the pocket of Dean's winter coat, telling him to run across the street to the convenience store and get something for Sammy. The store offered a small rack of generic stuffed animals – cheap holiday gimmicks to pacify kids while their parents pondered the behind-the-counter selection of scratch tickets and cigarettes. The brown, half-foot-tall, made-in-China teddy bears were so lame that they didn't even feature Christmas-oriented designs. Dean considered it a rip-off that he spent all of his five bucks on the dumb toy.

Cheap teddy or not, when Sammy's face lit up, when he hugged Dean, and when he profusely thanked his dad and big brother for the present…those were five bucks well spent.

Nevertheless… "Just cause' Dad and I got it for you doesn't mean you have to hold onto that thing forever, Sam." But despite his words, a warm feeling manifested within Dean's chest, flattered by Sam holding onto happy memories. He liked to think that John might feel the same way, but Dean was not stupid enough to expect their dad to publicize sentimentalities. Dean expected the opposite. "I'm sure Dad figured you would've gotten rid of that bear by now."

Both Dean and Sam could already envision what John might say about the silly bear – that it was time for Sam to start growing up, and that Dean was obligated to wean Sammy off childishness. Like it or not, the world was full of deadly abominations that showed zero sympathy. John Winchester did not raise his boys to be sissies.

Still, there was something to be said for Sam being able to secretly keep his teddy bear for the past few years. John obviously did not know, else he would have given the aforementioned "Be a man!" lecture. Was there really any harm done? It was normal for five-year-olds to seek comfort in toys. To Dean, this proved that Sammy was still a child, relatively untainted by the demon-hunting lifestyle. The oldest brother was almost jealous. The only toys Dean felt attached to were those miniature toy soldiers, which were not soft, cuddly, and failed to provide warm comfort to get through the night.

Dean decided to save his teddy bear jokes for another rainy day, even though he sincerely wanted to continue teasing Sammy until Dad came home. The littlest boy's abashed face was precious to behold. Few things compared to the amusement of an older sibling teasing his snot-nosed little brother.

"Okay, okay," relented Dean, still smiling as he playfully patted Sam's unruly hair. "I'll let you off the hook for now. But you gotta' promise me that you won't let Dad find it." Sam did not need to be told twice, since the major reason he hid his teddy bear was in fear of John's judgment. Winking, Dean kiddingly added, "Oh, and if this teddy faze causes you to start playing with Barbies, I _will_ kick your gay ass."

Giggling, Sam nodded, "Deal." Thereafter, the younger boy scooted his furry friend under the bed sheets. The room's beds were in total disarray, so the random bump of a small stuffed animal was hardly noticeable surrounded by bunched-up blankets. Usually whenever John returned home, he was either too exhausted or too drunk (sometimes both) to notice such pointless details. The secret was safe. "Thanks, Dean."

Perhaps Sam was additionally thanking Dean for the old Christmas gift. Either way, he could not keep the smile off his lips when night fell, everyone in bed, and Dean watched his little brother discreetly snuggle with his beloved toy. Eventually, the day would come when Sam would have better things under his bed, perhaps even have something – or someone – better _in_ his bed. But for the time being, Sammy Winchester was just an innocent boy, and Dean would not want his baby brother to be anything else.

**The End**

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><p><strong>AN**: My very first SPN fanfic! A short yet fun little ficlet to write. I hope everyone enjoyed. Reviews are much appreciated. ^_^


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